


Perdition

by ThereIsNoTragedyInThat



Series: Somewhere Between Kansas and the Open Road [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, Child Murder, Drabble, Gen, Hell, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, SPN Heaven and Hell Bingo, SPN Shut Down Bingo, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:07:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23614246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat/pseuds/ThereIsNoTragedyInThat
Summary: He took in their various tools with a critical eye, allowed his lips to turn up in disgust. Bone saws, needles, leather bonds, whips, cat o’ nine tails, knives, brands.Primitive the lot of it.SPN Shut Down Bingo Fill: HellSPN Heaven and Hell Bingo Fill: Escaping Hell
Relationships: Castiel & Dean Winchester
Series: Somewhere Between Kansas and the Open Road [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1698406
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Perdition

Castiel cast his eyes about the darkened room. Blood dripped from the walls, coated the devices sitting at attention on wooden tables. He took in their various tools with a critical eye, allowed his lips to turn up in disgust. Bone saws, needles, leather bonds, whips, cat o’ nine tails, knives, brands. Primitive the lot of it. 

Still…

He took in the soul tied to the chair in the center of the room. A young woman, maybe...19? She had runes carved into her skin, sluggishly bleeding while her eyes stared despondently at the ceiling. The torture, archaic as it might be, appeared effective. Castiel found no pity inside him, the child had wandered astray, had murdered her kitten by drowning in the bathtub, had captured a baby bird from its nest and snapped its neck, and finally…attempted to kill her baby brother, first by dropping him and then suffocation. 

Her father had killed her in the end. Had known what she would become. Merciful really, the guilt of what he had done, the way he tore himself apart day in and out, finding joy only in the growth of his son…well his place was assured in Heaven. 

Turning away from her Castiel took up his place by the door, he waited, hands loose at his sides, body tense in preparation. He would have but one chance to retrieve Dean Winchester’s soul from Hell and he did not expect it to be easy. Though he’d been given one small gift. The Winchester was allowed to wander the halls on his own now, a faithful friend to Alastair. It should be easy to snatch him up, getting out, however, that would be an entirely different task. 

There was…despite Castiel’s determination to remain focused and ready, the slightest ache in his heart. A good man falling into the clutches of hell, the righteous man breaking beneath their evil, well it was hard not to consider that a personal failure. Heaven had abandoned Dean Winchester, one of their most precious charges…but then he must remember the plan. 

The end was nigh, and Dean Winchester had a role to play, just as Alastair and Sam Winchester and Michael and Lucifer did. In the end, it would be Heaven on earth, and all the trials they faced would be worth it. The suffering of one man…well it paled in comparison to the destiny they were all working toward. Zachariah was clear about that. Castiel did not envy his job, keeping them all in line, taking on the task of watching the humans suffer. 

Castiel shook his head. Thinking too much would make him hesitant, would be a distraction. He could not risk such a thing, not now. The Demons did not know about the coming apocalypse, if they did, they might even simply let him pass with Dean Winchester’s soul. Undoubtedly, they would foolishly believe Lucifer capable of defeating Michael, it was a shame that wasn’t how things were meant to play out. 

There were only a select few Demons aware of the seals and Lucifer’s coming, just as Castiel was one of the select Angels to know of the battle to take place between Michael and the role the Winchesters were to play as vessels. 

Footsteps echoed down the hallway, two sets and Castiel allowed his blade to slip from his sleeve, hands gripping it tightly. He’d been to Hell before, had fought his way out, but this would be different, all the forces in its depths would try to stop him, unlike before when he’d been nothing but a simple distraction. 

The two footsteps paused outside the door; muffled voices laughed until finally someone moved away. Castiel’s hand hovered in front of him, ready. The moment it slid open and he got a glimpse of two bright, weary green eyes, he struck. 

His palm connected none too kindly to Dean Winchester’s shoulder and a bright light flashed, so very different to when he killed, softer somehow. The man’s form was no longer human, instead, he was a blue pure light tucked carefully into the caress of Castiel’s hand. 

He hadn’t drawn any notice, so he quietly closed the heavy door. It was best to take moment to secure the soul instead of fighting with one hand figuratively tied behind his back. Castiel found himself pausing in the action of tucking it away, found himself inspecting the light curiously. 

The light was as bright as a freshly claimed soul. Surprise flared inside him as he carefully turned it around and around, looking for evidence of the brutality it had endured. There were marks to be sure, the largest being the painful hole where Dean’s will had crumpled and he’d given into Alastair’s torture. Besides that, however, beneath the distress and pain and suffering…there was the soul of a good man. 

Something warm swept through Castiel as he cradled the soul closer, a distant fuzzy memory of long ago, before God had left them to their feuds, mission, and long ago promise of the end of the world. A time when Castiel walked among the humans, sword and wings invisible on his back and simply reveled in their quiet life. He used to be in awe of them, used to take such pride in the way he would fight for them, for their freedom and their purity. Castiel had only just begun to see how they had no need for Angels and Demons, let alone their particular brand of faith when he had been recalled back to Heaven. 

Shaking his head abruptly, Castiel shook away the dangerous thoughts. Zachariah would be disappointed in him, losing sight of the vision, the upcoming battle that would finally decide good and evil…they very thing they had worked towards all these years. He would not spit on the honor he’d been given, to pull the righteous man from Hell. 

There was the slightest of tremors in his hand and Castiel got the sense that Dean Winchester knew what was about to happen and wished to resist it. Pity swelled in his chest, no man wanted to face the reality of he had done, what he’d been subjected to back in a world that would judge him for it. Castiel decided to give him one small piece of hope that would overpower his resistance, willfully ignoring the waiting future where this would decidedly not be a comfort in the slightest. 

“Shh,” he murmured. “Sam is waiting for you. You just need to be a little more patient. A little braver.” 

There was a moment where the soul in his palm went completely still then quite suddenly, it flared to life, pushing at his hand like it was encouraging him to act on his words, to rush out of here and deliver him safely to his brother. Castiel found himself smiling, eager to follow through with his promise and so without much fanfare, he gently tucked the soul away, felt it warming him as he allowed a second angel blade to slip from his sleeve and settle comfortably in his waiting hand. Strapped to his back was his broad sword, ornate and blinding to the eye, while his wings slowly stretched out in the cramped room. 

It was time. 


End file.
